Darkness and Light
by Lady Stormfeather
Summary: A girl is the secret to defeating the Dark Lord, as foretold by a prophecy, but is there more to Liltalen then meets the eye, and will Haldir be able to save her? set during WotR, NOT tenth walker! HaldirOC
1. Prologue

Galadriel leaned over her mirror and waited…

Images came to her, flashes in time…Things that had been, things that would be, and things that may yet come to pass.

And as she gazed into the still pool of water, she heard a voice, a woman's voice, chanting in her head:

_Dancer of the Stars, By the name of a flower,_

_Spirit of Fire, By the mark of the Sword,_

_Bitten of the Night, Cloaked in the Darkness,_

_Sent back by the Valar, Marked by destiny…_

The voice faded into the background, and Galadriel watched, transfixed, as the visions in the mirror continued.

She saw a figure battling against innumerable foes, and suddenly, the figure turned, as though sensing it was being watched.

Galadriel could not tell if the figure was male or female, cloaked in the shadow as it was, but she caught the flash of emerald eyes as the vision faded into a pool of water once more.

Galadriel knew that the figure she had seen could well hold the fate of Middle Earth in his or her hands, and she waited through the ages for the one who could save Middle Earth to appear…


	2. From Death into Life

A/N: I don't own any of the characters, nor the storyline, created by J.R.R. Tolkien.

**Chapter 1: Marked by the Valar**

The traveling party chanced across them, lying on the forest floor in a pool of blood; an elven woman and a girl.

"Rakhel!" Shouted one of the women driving the horses, as she slowed the wagon to a stop. "Rakhel! Get up here!!!"

The man, Rakhel, rode up to the front of the party, and surveyed the brutality before him. He dismounted and went to inspect the bodies.

Rakhel knew even before he checked for a pulse that the elven woman was dead. The amount of blood on the ground around her, and her glassy eyes told him all that he needed to know.

But as he reached down to check the girl, who he was also certain had to be dead, her eyes snapped open. Green eyes, filled with pain and grief, which held him thrall.

"Who—who are…you?" She gasped out, her agony apparent in each word she uttered.

Rakhel tore his gaze from hers. "Shhh…" he told her gently, "You are safe now. I am Rakhel, and I am traveling with my family to Minas Tirith. We will bring you with us, and someone will be able to help you there."

She struggled to speak again.

"N—Nana…" she choked out.

Rakhel glanced at the other body on the forest floor, one pointed ear exposed through the pale golden hair; the eyes glazed over in death.

"I—I am sorry little one," He said sadly, "but your mother has moved on from this world…"

Her voice strengthened just slightly as she spoke again.

"Then so shall I too."

She welcomed the darkness as it wrapped her within itself, enfolding her in its loving embrace.

* * *

"Liltalen…" Whispered a voice.

Her eyes fluttered open.

She looked around, suddenly wide-awake. She was in an endless expanse; filled with everything and nothing at once.

"Liltalen…" came the voice again, louder; more insistent.

She looked around for the source.

"Who are you?!" she shouted in frustration, "Where am I?!"

"You must go back," spoke the voice from all around her, "It is not yet your time. You are destined for more then this. Do not let your grief destroy you, nor let your pain take you. You must live…"

"What if I don't want to live?!" she yelled back, tears in her eyes, "He killed my mother, and he meant to kill me. Maybe he was right, maybe I shouldn't exist."

The last was more quietly, more to herself then to the voice.

"Never let what other say about you determine who you are! You make your own decisions, and you are the one who chooses the path to darkness or to the light. No matter what, you choose the road that you travel in life." The voice told her.

A being appeared in front of her then, clothed in white light. She could not tell whether it was a man or a woman, even as it neared and reached out its hand to her.

She felt the world shift from beneath her feet, and she was falling.

* * *

When she awoke again, she was in the back of a wagon as it bumped along the road. Every tiny jolt sent bolts of pain shooting through her body. She wondered if the being had been a dream; if it had just been her fevered mind creating the fantasy.

As if in response to that thought, Liltalen felt a burning pain on her right hip. She cried out at this unexpected addition to her suffering.

Her cry alerted the party to her and the fact that she was awake.

The man, Rakhel, as Liltalen recalled, peered in the back of the wagon.

"Just stay still," he told her quietly but firmly, "We need to get you to a healer. We'll be in Minas Tirith before the day is out… Just hold on until then."

Liltalen felt the bandages wrapped around her torso, and she remembered the brutal agony of the sword that had ripped in and out of her, just below her heart. She knew that no matter how good the healer was, once the wound healed, she would bear a scar there always; showing that the wound she had received was a fatal one.

Her hand drifted, almost unconsciously, to rest above the bandage.

"Just… just try to sleep," Rakhel finally spoke again, sounding helpless.

_Sleep…that sounded nice_. Liltalen fell into the alluring blanket that enfolded her in its arms, and drifted into slumber.

* * *

Hey all!!! Read and Review!!! (Please:P )

-Lady Stormfeather-


	3. Home Sweet Home

_disclaimer_: yep... I don't own any of the characters from Lord of the Rings**  
**

**Chapter 3: Home Sweet Home**

Three weeks passed, and Liltalen obediently stayed confined to her bed until Milia told her she would be able to get up and walk around some, though she warned her that she would tire easily.

Liltalen decided to wander the building that she was in, admiring the structures and wandering down hallways aimlessly. Soon, she found herself hopelessly lost in the maze of corridors, and found that she was not as strong as she had thought she would be.

She became tired and frustrated and she got herself what she felt must be more and more lost.

Finally, she found a guard outside a door in one of the hallways. She approached him cautiously.

"Hello…" she said quietly, "I seem to be lost, and I actually have no idea where I came from…" Lily trialed off, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

The guard's blue-green eyes twinkled. "Well, that quite a quandary you've gotten yourself into, miss," he said cheerfully. "Do you know anything about where you came from?"

"Milia was taking care of me," said Lily hopefully.

"Hmmm," he looked thoughtful, "I'm 'fraid I don't know a Milia…" Lily's face fell. "…But, I think I can help you find someone that does."

They walked down corridors that all looked the same to Lily, but the guard seemed to know where they were going, and soon they came across another healer.

"Hey Evlin," called the guard in a friendly voice, "You know where Milia keeps her patients?"

"Sure," replied Evlin, looking at Lily, "She's in the third room in the south corridor of the second floor."

"Thanks!"

From there, the guard was able to lead Lily straight to her room. Milia was there when they arrived.

"Oh thank heavens!" She exclaimed when they walked in, "I was afraid something had happened to you Lily! You should not have been out so long!"

"I'm sorry," said Lily, "I got lost, and I didn't know the way back… If not for… I don't think I ever got your name." She turned back to the guard.

He bowed gallantly. "I am Davian, milady," he pronounced.

"Then, formally," Lily replied, "I am Liltalen Feanora, but you may call me Lily."

"Then, Lady Lily," said Davian, his eyes still twinkling, "I must take my leave, as I have been remiss in my duties as a guard."

With another courtly bow, he turned and strode from the room.

Milia chuckled. "There goes a breaker of young women's' hearts," she said knowingly.

"Really?" asked Lily, surprised.

"Oh, never intentionally!" laughed Milia, "but all the same! Now, it's back to bed for you, and let me look at that wound on your chest."

Lily lay upon the bed and remained still as Milia carefully peeled off the bandage and examined the healing wound.

"Well, it's healing very nicely," she said as she peered, "In fact, it's healing very nicely, and very quickly, though a wound like this _will_ scar... There's not much you can do about that. But I think you'll be good to get on with a normal life in a few weeks' time."

_Normal life?!_ "Um, I'm not sure how much you know about me, Milia," Lily began, "but I didn't grow up in Gondor. In fact, I'm not even fully human; I'm half-elf. I lived with my elven mother and we traveled to all parts of Middle Earth, and I don't have any idea what a 'normal life' is."

"Half-elf? I had no idea that you had so much elven blood in you. But nonetheless, that doesn't really matter." Milia continued speaking as she tidied up the spotless room. "I have a friend, and he's always looking for young ladies such as yourself to be barmaids at his tavern. It ain't the best line o' work, but it pays, and it could hold you until you move on."

Lily didn't really like the sound of it, but what other options did she have?

"Where's this tavern?" she asked Milia resignedly.

"It's in the fourth ring," said Milia, "It's a little place called 'The Broken Arrow.' I can take you there in a few weeks and get you a job."

* * *

Two weeks later, Lily moved in to the small room on the top floor of The Broken Arrow that was part of her end of the job; a room and a small wage, in return for dealing with the drunken louts that frequented the establishment. 

She entered the room, and closed and bolted the door behind her.

"Home, Sweet Home…" she whispered.

* * *

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	4. What I Have Become

Yeah... It's been awhile...sorry:)

_Disclaimer_: I don't own anything by J.R.R. Tolkien... I'm merely frolicing through the story he created, adding my own bits and pieces:P

* * *

**Chapter 4: What I Have Become**

Lily got used to her life; boring, uneventful, and irritating.

Dealing with drunken, grasping louts day in and day out, Lily served in The Broken Arrow in exchange for her rooms and a small wage.

Her boss, Torin, was a crude man, but he provided her rooms for her, so Lily simply avoided him as much as she could.

This particular night, the Inn was full, and drunken laughter echoed throughout the main room as people ate and drank.

Lily weaved her way through the room, bringing drinks to the three men that were in the back of the main room, in the shadows at the farthest table.

Lily set their drinks on the table and turned to go, but one of them grabbed her arm.

"Hey pretty," he slurred, "How much?"

"I'll be right back, sir," she said, trying to twist out of his grasp.

"Not the drinks," said another at the table, who was also intoxicated, though not as much, "_You_." He emphasized his meaning with a lecherous gaze that raked across her body.

"I am not for sale sir," Lily tried to leave, but gave a sharp intake of breath as the one with his hand clamped around her arm yanked her back into his lap.

"Pretty," he said again, running a calloused hand over her face.

Lily didn't even think, she just slapped him across the face and then leapt up.

She quickly patted her hair to make sure is still covered the semi-pointed ears that she hid.

"I am not for sale," she reiterated, as she glared in anger, "Find someone who is."

Lily pushed her way back through the crowded main room to the bar, where Torin was.

"Do you need me anymore tonight?" she asked him.

Torin looked at her blankly.

"I'm not feeling so well," Lily said, a lie, since she had never been sick a day in her life.

"Fine," said Torin, "go get some rest. We'll manage."

Lily climbed the stairs to her rooms, flopped on her bed and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

In the early morning hours, Lily awakened to sounds coming from outside of her room. She rolled over in her bed, still half asleep, trying to ignore whoever was making the racket. _Probably one of the regular drunks_, she thought irritably. Then her door swung forcefully in, slamming against the wall. 

As Lily leapt to her feet, the three men from earlier in the night stepped in, and the one who had grabbed her closed the door behind him.

"Get out!" snapped Lily with much more authority in her voice then she felt.

"After we get what we came for," chuckled one of them darkly.

The three of them converged on her, and though she thrashed and fought, the two shorter men managed to get a grip on her arms, as the tallest approached her, a wicked smile on his face.

"Don't worry," he said unpleasantly as he pressed the cloth he held against Lily's face, "You won't have a problem until _after_ you wake up."

Lily tried not to breathe in the sickly sweet, cloying odor, but try as she might, she couldn't fight the inevitable need; she felt the world slowly slip away from her as she lost consciousness.

* * *

Lily awoke slowly, as if from a deep sleep, her eyes fluttering open. Then she snapped awake. 

Her arms and legs were bound. She pulled hard on the ties to her arms, but to no avail, and when she heard the dark chuckle, she knew she was in trouble.

Lily looked in the corner of the room and saw the three men sitting there.

"An interesting thing," spoke one, "that she sleeps with her eyes open."

"Not man," said the other, shorter man, "She's an elf… Lookit the ears!"

They all glanced in Lily's direction.

"Ahhh," said the tallest, who Lily had now perceived to be the leader, "so our guest of honor has finally decided to join us."

Lily glared at him with hatred in her eyes, but he merely laughed, and then pulled out a knife. Lily's eyes widened in fear as he slowly approached her.

The man traced the knife slowly across Lily's jaw line and down her throat, and then brutally ripped open the front of her gown to reveal her undergarments.

She started to struggle, only to stop when the man placed the knife across her throat.

_She could not allow them to violate her in such a manner! _Her thoughts raced wildly, but she couldn't think clearly, not with the terror that fogged her mind.

But as the first man began to strip of his clothes, Lily's rage at what these men planned to do eclipsed her terror, and she knew no more.

* * *

When she came to, Lily was disoriented and slightly confused. 

She was standing in front of one of the men who had planned to rape her; he was in the corner of the room, his knees to his chest. The man was shaking in terror as he looked up at her, the whites of his eyes showing.

Lily was aware of a metallic taste in her mouth, but had no knowledge of what it was. She had no memory of what had occurred, but she knew it hadn't been more then a quarter hour since she blacked out, since the candles had barely burned down.

She took a step toward the cowering man, only to have him shrink back even farther.

"Please, Dark Angel," he pleaded, "Please spare me. I'll never do nothin' like that again… I swear it! Please!"

At this point, Lily became aware of the bodies of the other two men. One of the men lie facedown, but the other lay slumped sideways against the wall where he had clearly been thrown, his throat completely ripped out. His eyes were sightless, and his mouth open in a soundless scream that mirrored the horror he must have felt in death.

There was blood everywhere.

Lily retched, her back to the third, trembling man in the corner.

He yelped in fear at the sound. Without turning around to face him, she spoke quietly,

"Get out."

"Thank you, Dark Lady!" he groveled, "Tha—"

"I said **GET OUT**!" she barked, trying to contain her nausea.

Only after the door slammed and she heard the man's flight continue down the hallway did Lily allow herself to empty the contents of her stomach, a reaction to the carnage and death in the room.

She looked around, and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. What she saw made her recoil in a newfound fear; her face was covered in blood that was not her own. She looked down, and saw that her hands and forearms were smeared with more blood.

Lily grabbed a cloak from where it hung by the door and left the room that death haunted. She pulled the hood low over her face and exited the inn that the men had brought her to.

She made almost all the way back the The Broken Arrow when she encountered a beggar on the street.

"Please, milady," he grated, "spare a coin?"

She tried to walk by him, but he grabbed at her.

"I haven't any coin to spare!" she snapped at him, but he was already scrambling backward into the shadows, having caught sight of her blood-streaked features.

Deep in the shadows, her elven ears heard whispers.

"What was it?" murmured a woman's voice.

"Death."

Lily turned and ran the rest of the way to The Broken Arrow. She sprinted up the stairs to her room, slammed the door, and wedged a chair under the handle.

She washed her face and arms of all traces of blood, scrubbing at them vigorously until her skin was raw, and then she curled up on her bed as uncontrollable tears poured down her face.

_What had happened?_ She fell asleep curled in a ball, and the truth came to her in her dreams.

* * *

_Lily was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, but at the same time, she knew that the dream was showing her the truth of what had happened earlier in the night._

_She watched from an out-of-body perspective, seeing herself as well as the three other men in the room._

_She watched as she slumped over, passing out. Then her eyes snapped open, and she rose from the bed she was bound to, snapping the bonds easily. Huge black wings stemmed from her back, and her incisors lengthened into fangs. She looked at the three men with eyes as black as night, and she was feral and deadly. She stalked the terrified men, and she was aware of only one need, one instinct: the necessity to hunt, and to kill._

_She pulled the tallest man to her, in an almost loving embrace, and sank her fangs into his throat. She took several great pulls of his blood, and then ripped his throat out, carelessly slinging the body to one side and advancing on the other two, who trembled in the far corner. _

_Her body wanted the blood, craved it, even. Her untamed self said that she should not deny this thirst, that there were two beings here to be used as her prey. _

_She watched on in horror as she dreamed; as this dark angel of death stalked the other two men._

_With a whimper of mindless terror, one of the two men tried to run for the door, but the winged demon that was Lily simply conjured a sword of silver light and ran the second man through from behind, moving at inhuman speed to take his life. The sword of light simply disappeared as the man collapsed facedown, his lifeblood seeping out across the floor as his final breath rattled from his body._

_The third man's eyes rolled as he begged for his life._

"_Please, Dark Lady, Dark Angel," he sobbed, his eyes on the others' bodies, "Spare me! I did not know!"_

"_If you had known," she hissed, advancing, "you simply would have picked another to subject to your torture!"_

_She took another step toward the man…_

* * *

…And she gasped as she awoke, her entire body covered in sweat. 

She knew, as surely as she was alive, that it had been she who had killed those men so brutally, so viciously. But she could also remember the feeling, the ecstasy, that the demon she had been had felt as it had taken those men's lives.

Lily sat on her bed, shaking in the darkness. Her parentage had never manifested itself in her, and she had always hoped and prayed that she had no part of that evil being that had fathered her within herself.

But now she knew better.

She remembered looking at herself in the dream; fangs, pitch black eyes, and big, black wings.

_What had she become?_

* * *

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Lady Stormfeather


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